


Farben

by laureltreedaphne



Category: Lord of the Rings RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-05
Updated: 2014-11-05
Packaged: 2018-02-24 06:34:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,237
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2571683
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/laureltreedaphne/pseuds/laureltreedaphne
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They're complementary, you see?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Farben

**Author's Note:**

> Migrating fic over from LiveJournal - this is from 2003. Written in 85 minutes for contrelamontre's complementary colors challenge.

"They're complementary, you see?" Dom looks down at the yellow shirt and purple suit, then up at the salesgirl's eager smile. No, he does not see. And it must show on his face, because the salesgirl's smile falters a little bit, and she speaks again. "Yellow and purple - they're complementary colors. They go well together." That doesn't really help, because the concept of complementary colors doesn't exactly make sense to him. But he's not about to admit this, because, after all, it's something they teach six year olds in grade school art class, isn't it? And if six year olds can understand complementary colors, then he should be able to. He flashes the girl a charming grin. 

"Of course," he says, pretending to study the shirt and suit combination again. "They look great together. But I just don't think I want to buy something so flashy - my style's usually much more conservative." And god, if any of his cast mates heard him say that, they'd probably be incapacitated by laughter. But none of them are here, and the salesgirl apparently has no idea who he is, so the lie goes over perfectly. 

She smiles again, still trying to make a sale. "Oh, of course!" she exclaims, laughing a little bit as she puts the atrociously gaudy suit away. "I should have guessed that right from the start. It's just that, you know, a lot of times we get people in here who are desperate to be Hollywood types, and they want to stand out as much as possible - you know what I mean?" He laughs, assures her that he knows exactly what she means, and leaves the store an hour later with an attractive, but definitely non-flashy gray suit. 

Viggo's the obvious person to go to for information - artist and all that. Viggo is not much help though - he gives him a textbook definition. "Complementary colors are color opposites," he explains wisely. "They contrast each other in the most extreme way possible, and are placed on opposite sides of the color wheel. This contrast serves to emphasize their own color." 

"But what does that mean?" Dom asks, and Viggo stops impersonating a bored art teacher and becomes himself again. 

"They just suit each other, Dom," he tries to explain, gesturing ineffectively with his hands. "I don't really know how to explain it exactly - it's just something you have to figure out for yourself." 

Dom tries to figure it out, he really does. He finds himself stopping in front of a display of sweaters, placing the red and the green next to each other. OK, yeah, they look good together, but he thinks that's only because they're Christmas colors, and so they make him feel all warm and holiday-spirit like inside. As far as he can tell, here's not anything special about the actual combination of the two colors together. He stares at them, trying to block Christmas from his mind, but - nothing. Somebody might be saying his name, but he ignores it, choosing to frown at the red and green threads instead. "Dom!" he hears again, and then somebody pinches his arm, hard. He curses and turns to find Elijah smirking at him. 

"Vicious little cunt," he says, smacking Elijah upside the head and rubbing at his arm. "What'd you do that for?"

"Because you weren't paying attention to me," Elijah says, mock-pouting. "Because you're standing here fingering sweaters and muttering to yourself, and you need to stop. It's fucking weird." Dom mutters something about not being the one who owns 1,500 CDs, but Elijah just laughs and says, "That's passion, not insanity. C'mon, I want to go look at the stereos." 

"Don't look for it in insignificant objects," Viggo advises when Dom calls for help. "Look for the way the colors reflect themselves in your life, in things that mean something to you." 

Dom tries. He stares at Elijah while they watch TV, looking at his clothing, his skin, and, there! His eyes and his hair - surely the black and blue suit each other perfectly, surely there's a perfect contrast between his bright, shining eyes that reflect any light that touches them, and his dark (but still shining) hair that absorbs any light that happens to come its way. He reaches into his pocket to pull out the color wheel that Viggo gave him, looks to see if blue and black are opposite each other. But it turns out that black's not even on the wheel - and apparently blue's complement is orange. Dom looks at Elijah again, tries to imagine him with orange hair, but finds the image more than a little disturbing. He's almost positive that he would not find that to be complementary. Elijah hits his leg with the remote. "Stop staring at me, Dom," he commands. "It's distracting. And you're freaking me out."

"Well, black's not really a color," Viggo explains. "Look, Dom, not that I'm not ecstatic about your newfound love of art, but why are you pushing at this so hard?" he asks gently. "I mean, why can't you just accept that they're complementary and leave it at that?"

"Because," Dom answers, and since it's Viggo, that's a valid reason. 

He wakes up in the middle of the night needing to piss and slides himself out of bed, away from the warmth of Elijah's body and into the slightly chilly night air. Instead of just taking care of things and going back to bed, he finds himself staring at the toothbrushes, wondering if his blue toothbrush really looks better with the orange spare toothbrush than it does with Elijah's red one. He pulls them out of their cup, holds them up next to each other, squinting, and then drops all three into the sink when Elijah suddenly appears in the mirror, with a muttered, "What the _fuck_ , Dom?" His eyes are bleary with sleep behind his glasses, and his hair is wild, sticking out at every angle imaginable. Dom is seriously disturbed when he finds his eyes scanning Elijah, looking for color combinations. 

Silently, Elijah reaches around him and plucks the toothbrushes out of the sink, placing them back in their cup where they belong. He doesn't move away once the toothbrushes are stored, instead he keeps his arms where they are, trapping Dom against the sink. "I don't know what's going on with you lately," he says, eyes thoughtful behind his glasses, "but either tell me what it is, or snap out of it. I'm starting to worry that you're having one of those oh so popular Hollywood breakdowns. Now stop playing with the fucking toothbrushes and come back to bed."

Elijah's lips are gentle but commanding against Dom's own, his arms are warm and firm, and as he starts to maneuver them out of the bathroom, Dom has no choice but to follow. Not that he really wants to resist. But as they're leaving, he can't help but glance out of the corner of his eye at their reflection in the mirror. And to his surprise, he finally understands. Alone, Elijah's boxers are nothing but a dull green; Dom's boxers are nothing but a slightly ugly red. But when they're pressed up against each other like this, Elijah's are no longer green but emerald, and Dom's have somehow become crimson. "Oh," he breathes against Elijah's mouth, "I get it." Elijah's too busy to ask what he's talking about.


End file.
